Public Access
by it's not a moose
Summary: Zim's fiendish plan to control the world's minds has one flaw - Dib has proof! All this, and a familiar face... (chapter 2 uploaded!)
1. Fishies go pook pook...

zim

Invader ZIM:Public Access

Zim's gaze flicked from left to right, his bulbous head sweating under the Earth's filthy, disgusting sunlight.He had to admit, amongst the vile, dirt-encrusted… _things_ which seemed to infest this planet, the half-developed, filthy, filth-children his stature had forced him to surround himself with had to be one of the most…filthy.

"And that…" hissed Miss Bitters, positioning herself directly between Zim and the sanity-sustaining view of the clock, "…is why, in no more than ten years, all of you will be stuck in SOUL-destroying relationships, forced to work MEANINGLESS jobs to fill the ravenous mouths of the offspring you, no doubt, will have spawned, thanks to your disgusting, carnal urges…"

With that, eliciting a heartfelt sigh of relief from Zim, the bell cut Bitters off mid-sentence, her acidic ravings drowned out by the sudden clamour of escaping kids.Zim, letting as many of the germ-ridden bodies get out of his way before bothering to move, breathed a long sigh of relief, swung his legs around the side of his seat, and wandered out of the door.

"And now…" whispered Zim to himself, remembering his vital mission on Earth with a sinister grin, "…the invasion CONTINUES!"

Dib, having packed up this week's issue of 'Paranoid Media Worm', was just in front of the diminutive Irken as he left, laughing as evilly as he could.

"What'd you say?Something about… invasions?Awfully suspicious, Zim…" snapped the human child, turning and waving a skinny finger under where Zim's nose, had he possessed such a vile, ugly protuberance, would have been.

"Did you HEAR that?" yelled Dib suddenly, turning back to his classmates, most of whom were preoccupied with the coming weekend."He just SAID he's planning an invasion!Proof!PROOF, I TELL YOU!"  
"Yeah, Dib.Whatever."Muttered The Letter M, rolling his eyes.The other kids either completely ignored Dib's paranoid ravings or whispered insulting comments about the state of Professor Membrane's son's sanity.Zim, breathing yet another sigh of relief, sidled over to Dib, leaning as close to the boy's ear as he could.Dib, slightly concerned, backed off.

"Your pathetic planet will never know what hit it…" whispered Zim, fully aware that he was fuelling his arch-enemy's paranoid rants, but unable to stop himself.The very idea that a… a… 'human', could foil the intricate plans of a brave Irken soldier, chosen by the Tallest to invade a secret planet, no less, simply made Zim laugh uncontrollably.

This he did, for the entire fifteen-minute walk home.People, for some reason, looked at him funny.

"MASTER!" screamed an incredibly high-pitched voice, sounding to Zim something like a comic artist and colourist being repeatedly battered in the crotch by another, skinnier, artist.Zim shook his head derisively.What a truly ridiculous concept.This planet was beginning to have an adverse effect on him.

"Hello, GIR…" said Zim, cautiously opening the door and waving aside the ever-present robotic parent units.The tiny information retrieval robot had been known to break things in his absence.Things which then exploded…

Thankfully, this was not one of those occasions, and Zim was simply greeted with a huge hug.After a few minutes of indulging his assistant's idiocy, Zim began to try to struggle free of the malfunctioning SIR unit's grip, only to discover that he was attached to nothing more than GIR's dog disguise, and that the robot had snuck away some time ago.

"I have a good feeling about tonight, GIR…" said Zim cheerily, letting his backpack lift him onto the sofa.  
"Ooh!Why's that?" asked the high-pitched invasion assistance tool, looking up from his beloved rubber piggy.

"I don't really know…" replied Zim, tapping at controls on his pack's computer panel."I just have a feeling that my next plan, whatever it may be, will really break the resistance of these pathetic, doomed Earth-things…"  
"Ooh!Ooh!" yelled GIR, hopping from one leg to the other in his excitement."I've got a plan!A plan!A plaaaaaaan!"  
Zim raised an eyebrow."Well, it's nice to see you're finally making an effort, GIR.Is it suitably fiendish?"  
GIR nodded emphatically, his antenna waggling around as his head moved.

"Yeah!Yeahyeahyeah!First, we round up ALL the fish…"  
Zim's eyebrow rose even further.

"Fish?Why would we want this… fish?"  
GIR simply grinned.

"That's the clever part.When we've got all the fish, we HAND THEM OUT TO THE PEOPLE!And then they'll all sing, and dance, and WEAR HATS…"  
Zim sighed, as his sidekick rambled on.It looked like he was going to have to come up with something on this own, then.For all his enthusiasm, Zim couldn't help but feel a little disenchanted with the whole situation on Earth.The weak, pathetic specimen of humanity known as Dib somehow seemed to foil every plan, every scheme he ever had.And the Tallest always seemed so… bored… when he reported to them.An inferior, less patriotic Invader might have thought that Red and Purple, exalted leaders of the mighty Irken Empire, didn't care about their most prized soldier.Zim, however, knew that they must simply have important matters on their minds.Why else would they keep redirecting his calls to Foodcourtia Pizza Express?

"Okay, GIR…" hissed Zim, finally, a vein on his head throbbing slightly."We'll just put that one on the back-burner, okay?"

GIR nodded, then inexplicably leapt sideways, sliding into the kitchen.Amidst the crashes of broken pottery, Zim could hear the phrase 'back-burner!' repeated at quite incredible volume and speed.The Irken shook his head.

"GIR, if you've quite finished, we HAVE A MISSION HERE!" yelled Zim, his temper thankfully coinciding with one of GIR's occasional moments of obedience.Red eyes glowing, the information retrieval unit sprung to attention at his master's side.

"Yes, master!Awaiting orders…" said the machine, his voice having dropped in pitch somewhat.Zim picked his way over broken plates and scattered cutlery in the kitchen, finally reaching the dustbin and hopping in.

"What do these drooling stink-beasts rely on for their _entertainment_, GIR?" asked Zim, as the tube-lift shot through layer after layer of the Earth's crust, heading for the subterranean centre of operations of Zim's one-Irken invasion force.

"Fish?" ventured a squeaky voice from behind Zim.Turning, the diminutive Invader sighed, seeing that his robot's eyes, shoulders and chest were green again.In this case, green seemed to denote 'idiot'.

"Exactly." Answered Zim, without thinking."Wait… no, why would they… the answer is 'television', GIR.They practically worship those primitive, flickering boxes.The FOOLS!"  
GIR squealed in excitement."Wheeeheehoo!TV!Can we watch the scary monkey?"  
Zim held a gloved hand to his forehead.

"I thought they cancelled that…Anyway, imagine what would happen if every 'television' show, across the entire PLANET, were to display subliminal messages of submission to the Irken army?"  
"Total, global domination, SIR!" answered a deeper voice, as the faint reflection in the lift-tube changed from green to red.Without even bothering to turn, Zim nodded happily."Exactly, GIR.Tonight… WE INFLITRATE THE BROADCASTING STATION!"

Dib gasped, holding his binoculars even closer to his eyes in amazement, as the roof of Zim's house split in two, revealing a squat, roundish craft, which rose on purplish plumes and shot away into the night sky.Shifting position in the prickly bush providing tonight's observation post, Dib's face broke into a malicious grin.

"Leaving your house unprotected, are you, Zim?When they write the story of your capture, that'll be your FIRST MISTAKE!"  
With that, the human hopped out of the laceration-inducing undergrowth, snagging his trenchcoat on a branch and hitting his face hard on the concrete pavement.After a few moments, Dib clambered to his feet, brushed himself off and sighed, looking carefully at the empty house, trying to figure out a way to gain entry.

"Well, we're both allowed one mistake…" muttered Dib."And at least I have EARS."  
  
  
  



	2. The zingers come out whole

Yet another blast of pinkish light slashed a smoking hole in the fence, dangerously close to Dib's head

Disclaimer:I don't own Zim, Jhonen does.So there, you.

_ _

_Public Access chapter 2 – 'the zingers come out whole'___

Yet another blast of pinkish light seared a smoking hole in the fence, dangerously close to Dib's head.Trying to calm down his racing heart, the diminutive investigator slumped in the grass.The front door, then, was definitely NOT an option.His devious alien nemesis had, seemingly, remembered to turn on his defences before leaving.

Or maybe there were more aliens in there... 

A grin spread across the human kid's face.His mind happily orbiting a planet where he, Dib, stood atop the autopsied bodies of a million life-forms, the scientific community applauding only him, Dib gathered his backpack and trenchcoat and prepared for another try.As if predicting that the human was about to make a run for it, Zim's accursed garden gnomes turned, each focusing its eerily-lit eyes on him.

"Hmm..." mused Dib, thinking out loud.It wasn't, after all, as if he had to worry about people thinking he was crazy.He had _that_ well under control.Still, they would all see just who was crazy when he returned, triumphant, with the contents of Zim's house, his secret alien base of evil...

Snapping back to the present, Dib tried his best to focus on the task in hand, ignoring the delusions of grandeur doing laps around his neural pathways as best he could.

"Let's see... here we are..." muttered Zim's nemesis, pulling a brightly-coloured package out of his backpack and studying it intently.

"'Guaranteed to protect the wearer from all types of alien surveillance', eh?That sounds about right..."  
Dib cracked open the cardboard packaging, removing an object which looked suspiciously like a bicycle helmet, wrapped in tinfoil, with a couple of springs shoved in for good measure.Still, 'Alien-Related Impending Doom' magazine wouldn't have voted it their top piece of protective headgear for no reason...Strapping the unwieldy device on top of his head, Dib took a few cautious steps out from the scantprotection of the fence...

...and, remarkably, wasn't blown into a million smoking chunks of meat.Another step and, the smirk on his face growing, Dib found that he was still able to draw breath, rather than, say, having been punctured by a million white-hot rays of death.Walking with a little more confidence now, Dib quickly approached the front door...

---

"GIR!Stop that!" yelled Zim, making an ineffectual grab for his 'assistant' with one hand, while trying his best to steer the Voot Runner with the other.Thankfully, the robot had only managed to hit the remote controls for the house systems.Zim breathed a sigh of relief and settled back into his seat, a dark look on his face.

"Whooooo!" screamed GIR, hopping around frantically in the back of the small ship."We're flying!WE'RE FLYIIIING!Hey... how are we staying up here?"  
Zim sighed again.

"It's quite simple, GIR.You see, Irken ships work on a simple principle of anti-gravitational f..."  
Without even letting his master finish, GIR suddenly threw himself at the front window, bouncing off and landing on top of even more delicate controls.

"WE'RE GONNA FALL!AAAaaaaaaaieeeeeek!"

Dib's furtive, nervous expression changed into an enormous grin, as his alien nemesis' front door beeped a few times and swung open.After a quick, grateful glance at the dark skies, the would-be investigator brandished his flashlight like a club and took as huge a stride as his short legs would allow into the house.Someone up _there_, seemingly having pulled their pants up, was finally smiling on him.

"GIR!" roared Zim, getting up from his pilot's seat and waving a finger angrily, as houses and gardens shot by beneath them."We are _not_ going to fall!Superior Irken technology, as much as I _wonder _about the term when it's applied to you, is perfectly reliable!"

The green-eyed Information Retrieval unit, either ignoring or not hearing its master, continued to dash from one side of the craft to the other, screaming at the top of his overworked voice-synthesiser.

"But we're in the AIR!We're gonna DIEEEEE!And I don't even have any crabs..."

"Be quiet, GIR.I have to concentrate on finding the humans' pathetic _entertainment_ station..."  
Zim, turning back to the small ship's controls, was taken completely by surprise as GIR wrapped himself around the Irken's head in a fit of panic, screeching unadulterated incoherence about fish, crustaceans and what sounded to Zim like 'buttmonkeys'.After a few seconds' token frantic scrabbling and muffled screaming, Zim managed to feel his way to his seat, the terror-stricken robot still clinging to his face, and sat down.

"GRmmmph.GmmPhmmMmm..." managed Zim, clawing ineffectually at the robot, who had completely forgotten his previous terror and begun to giggle.Unfortunately, this was the moment that, if he hadn't been being asphyxiated by a brainless SIR unit, Zim would have pulled the ship upwards.Since he couldn't see, the Irken's craft, unfortunately, ploughed straight through an advertising billboard ('Meat!There's **animals** in it!') and hurtled toward the bright lights of the city, belching smoke and shedding potentially vital components as it went.

---

"Welcome home, son!" chorused the spooky, automated parent-decoys, squeaking back into their positions at either side of the door, as Dib shot each a dark look and tiptoed past.

"Sloppy, Zim..." muttered the child, looking in wonder at the oversized couch, pipe-covered ceiling and quite frankly bizarre posters."Nobody but an _idiot_ would be fooled by all this."  
The thought suddenly occurred to Dib that all the kids in his class, Miss Bitters and, it seemed, the entire neighbourhood had, up to this point, been successfully fooled.This only proved his point, really.

Hitting his forehead with a gloved palm, Dib winced.The camera!In his excitement at actually being inside the alien invader's house, he had completely forgotten to take any pictures...Still, there was more than enough time for that.Rummaging in his backpack, Dib almost failed to notice the scary, wide-eyed monkey picture which dominated the Irken's living room sliding upwards, revealing a huge screen, which flickered a few times and burst into life.

"Zim, would you _stop_ leaving us on call-back?" shouted Red, tapping a finger against the screen to illustrate his point."We **know** your invasion is going... well.We don't need to hear about it every ten seconds!"

Behind him, Purple was distractedly eating a hot-dog.Seeing what their ship's view-screen was displaying, however, the freakishly tall Irken dropped his meaty snack to the floor, his mouth wide open.

"Heeeey..." began Red, with the air of someone having made a great discovery."You're not Zim..."

Dib grinned with malicious glee, snapping off a few pictures of the perplexed aliens on the screen in front of him, his mind racing with the opportunities this opened up for him.Seeming to notice that the figures on the screen were talking to _him_, Dib looked up and nodded.

"That's right.I'm _not_ Zim, hideous alien... scum... filth... things!"

Purple sidled up to the screen, raising an eyebrow and regarding Dib's less-than-impressive height.

"Did you kill him?"

Red's eyes widened.

"Yeah, did you kill Zim?Please tell me you killed him..."

Dib looked confused for a moment, then simply went back to what he would have been saying if the aliens were acting as he'd expect them to.Being someone who spent most of his time in a paranoid delusion, Dib tended to hear what he wanted to hear.

"Oh, you might think you're so superior, up there in your... screen!" managed Dib, waving a finger at the Tallest."But I now have proof!Proof that Zim is a alien!Proof that everything I've been saying is true!Proof that... that..."

Purple sighed."You didn't kill Zim, did you?" he asked, resignedly.Dib shook his head, still grinning and clutching his camera and tape recorder, which had been recording throughout his brief exchange with the leaders of the Irken army.

"You didn't even hurt him a bit?Break his legs?Gouge out his squeedlyspooch?"

Dib shook his head again.

"Then where _is_ he?" asked Red, looking unconvinced."You're sure you didn't kill him and then forget about it?"  
Dib threw his head back and laughed maniacally, then seemed to remember where he was, and turned back to the Tallest, wiping a tear from his eye.Smirking, he waved the camera up at the viewscreen.

"**I** didn't kill him, but I'm sure the government'll want a chance to see what makes Zim tick when they see **this**!" hissed Dib.Red and Purple looked impressed.

"Hmm... I wonder if Zim has anything else _interesting_ in here..." said Dib, looking a little less intense and glancing at the technological mess filling his alien nemesis' house.

"So..." began Purple, looking at Dib in a new light."You're saying that these... governments... will get rid of Zim for good, if they find out who he is?"

Dib nodded.The Tallest paused for a second, exchanging knowing looks.

"Ooh!Ooh!Look under the couch!There's gotta be something under there!" exclaimed Red suddenly, pushing his associate out of the way. 

"No!Try the bedroom!There's _bound_ to be something good in Zim's bedroom!"managed Purple, vying with his equally-tall co-ruler for space. 

Dib stuffed the camera back into his pack, and wandered into the kitchen, leaving the two aliens, confined to the screen, to their argument.

---

  
"GIR!DO SOMETHING!" screamed Zim, ineffectually wrestling with the ship's control stick, as the tiny craft demolished street-lamp after street-lamp, each putting an impressive dent in the Voot Runner's thin hull and sending sparks showering from the console.To one side of the stricken craft, Zim's less-than-helpful robot giggled and began to dance.

"DO SOMETHING **USEFUL**, GIR!" yelled the Irken, as the ship bucked upwards and smashed into a road-sign, sending the pair rocketing up then down in a huge, wide arc, during which both managed to come to their senses and do the only appropriate thing, which was scream.

---

"Hey, Al, d'you see something just then?" asked the first scientist, peering out of one of the van's high-set windows.The second shook his head, continuing whatever he was doing.

"Coulda sworn something just shot past us..." muttered the first man, shivering a little in the cold night air.

"Wouldn't be anyone much out here at this time..." said the second, reasonably.The first nodded and moved to one side, revealing row upon row of tiny, liquid-filled glass tubes, some of which had contents which seemed to be moving.

"Couldya give me a hand here?" asked Al, fiddling with something hidden behind his hunched figure.On either side of the scientist's body, the van's dim light illuminated a glass tank, containing s miniature landscape of grass and trees.

"Yeah.It was prob'ly nothing..." muttered Trent, not sounding particularly convinced.After a last glance out the window, he joined his colleague.

---

A sudden shriek broke the stillness of the night a little, startling the few people walking around the city-centre at two a.m.It wasn't as if mysterious screams were anything unusual, anyway.The fact that it came from a fairly ordinary-looking white van parked on the streetcorner wasn't all that odd, either.Nearby, a cloud of smoke hanging over the city park was the only sign that something unusual had happened.

"GIR..." muttered Zim, clawing himself out of the ship's wreckage with a furious expression on his face, then flopping into a soft-looking bush.GIR hopped lightly out of the smashed ship, which was now resting in what had once been a flower-bed.His dog disguise was ripped beyond recognition.

"...are you sure you aren't trying to kill me?"

GIR nodded, sticking his tongue out."I'm helping!"

Zim sighed.

"Well, at least we appear to be in the city..."

The Irken stood up, dusted himself off, noting his torn clothing, and regarded their surroundings with a fierce glare.

"Yes... tonight's operation continues as planned.No horrendous, catastrophic disasters at all.In fact, I am..."Zim paused, his face displaying something between uncertainty and determination."I am, in fact, a fine example of the Irken species.Now, GIR!TO THE 'TELEVISION' STATION!ENJOY YOUR LAST MOMENTS OF FREE-WILL, DROOLING HUMAN BEASTS, FOR YOU SHALL SOON BOW BEFORE M…"

The crippled Irken ship chose this moment to belch another cloud of smoke, obscuring Zim's words and sending the tiny Irken into a fit of coughing.With a sigh, Zim picked up GIR by the remains of his disguise and set off in the rough direction of the television antenna.  
  


---

After a few moments, a pigeon landed on the inconspicuous white van's roof, and picked at a few misplaced feathers with its beak.

"No, I... I don't want to..." said a small, timid-sounding voice, from inside the van.

"Yeah, I know there's space to fill, but how can I entertain the people when I'm so miserable?I still miss my monkey-friend..."  
The pigeon held its head a little closer to the source of the weird noises.

"No, really, I don't feel like dancing..." continued the voice, sounding even more helpless with every word.Suddenly, a revving, grinding sound startled the bird slightly, making it hop a few paces down the van.This was soon replaced by a sigh, and a repetitive tapping, almost like small feet dancing on a metal surface.

But pigeons are stupid, so it didn't understand a word.

To be continued… 

  
  



End file.
